


it is both a blessing and a curse; to feel everything so deeply

by boleynhowards



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: F/F, Sexist Language, established parrlyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28017549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boleynhowards/pseuds/boleynhowards
Summary: Stirred awake by a nightmare, Anne heads down to the back garden for a night of fresh air and reflection on the past.She didn’t realise that Cathy followed her downstairs.
Relationships: Anne Boleyn/Catherine Parr
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37





	it is both a blessing and a curse; to feel everything so deeply

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: uncensored usage of words sl*t and wh*re.

Sitting on the rotting wooden bench at the top of the garden, Anne stared out into space. It was three in the morning last time she had checked, and here she was, sitting alone outside the house and simply thinking to herself. The crescent moon hung resolutely in the air, watching over the scene in a way that Anne found oddly calming. Small stars speckled over the dark blanket sky, shining like polished silver coins. Every single house in the street she lived on had its lights turned off, including her own, and a silence only interrupted by crickets tittering and the occasional owl hung in the air where there were usually car engines or passersby conversing.

It was peaceful. A strong breeze carried through the nighttime too, nipping at her skin through the thin fabric of her pyjamas, but she didn’t seem to care all that much about the cold. In fact, she embraced it. With each breath of fresh air that she swallowed, Anne could taste freedom. Having been stirred awake by nightmares, that was all she wanted right now.

Anne had been having quite the sleepless night so far. For reasons she couldn’t pin down, she had been in a solemn mood ever since she retired up to her bedroom after dinner, her mind heavy with deep thoughts. It was probably just one of those days, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop thinking about the past. She ended up laying awake for a few hours, mind swarming with too many things to think about to even attempt to sleep. Eventually, as Cathy climbed into the bed next to her after a few hours spent typing away on her laptop, Anne decided to tune into her steady, gentle breathing and doze off alongside her girlfriend.

Only to wake up thirty minutes later with the sound of a sword swinging through the air in her ears, the faces of a taunting crowd in her eyes and her bedroom walls feeling like they were going to start shrinking around her. Quickly, she sat up, somehow managing to scramble out of the bed without waking Cathy up and clamber to her bedroom window. She pressed a hand on the cold glass, took deep, ragged breaths and stared out to the garden outside.

And that was how she found herself down there now, sitting on the bench and back to thinking her thoughts. Being outside always helped Anne after she had particular nightmares. After being imprisoned in the tower against her own will, being able to leave her house whenever she pleased was something she never took for granted, as mundane as it sounded.

For a while, she just sat there. Her eyes darted around the foliage, never focusing on the same place for more than a few seconds at a time before moving on. She held a claw grip around one of the bench’s arms as if it was hooking her onto reality, reminding her that she was sitting in the garden of her townhouse in London and not in her prison cell at the Tower. That, if she went inside and checked the calendar hanging on the kitchen wall, it would say 2020 and not 1536. She was safe.

And then, out of the blue, both a sound and a light cut through the tranquility. The garden that had been bathing in the deep blue colour of the nighttime was partially illuminated by a warm orange glow, allowing Anne to make out the finer details like the separate blades of grass and cracks in the stone pavement. It wasn’t the light that had startled Anne all that much though. Rather, it was the voice.

“Annie?”

At the sound of her nickname, Anne slowly turned around from facing forward, twisting to look behind herself. Of course, she knew that voice from anywhere, but she still liked to pair the sound to the face.

Cathy stood in the back doorway, hugging herself slightly to protect herself from the cold that was drifting in. Her face, from what Anne could make out at this distance and in the dim garden light, was a mix of confusion and concern, her brow furrowed and expression tense. Anne also noticed, with a small flutter of her heart, that Cathy was adorned in a dark green hoodie that was frayed at the hems and a few sizes too big for her. She decided to tease her about it later.

“Hi.” Anne responded simply in a voice that was quieter than usual but still audible in the silence of the night.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Thinking.”

“Oh.” Cathy said simply, then took a few small steps out of the door and closer to Anne. “Can I sit with you?”

“Sure.”

Anne shuffled sideways to make enough room, and then Cathy sat down.

For another short while, Anne just sat there. Her eyes darted around the foliage again, never focusing on the same space for more than a few seconds at a time before moving on. Her hand, though now slightly loosened, still gripped onto the arm of the bench, keeping her tethered into the present.

The only significant difference was the presence of Cathy who was now sitting by her side, also looking around the garden without any words. Their shoulders touched slightly, though not enough that was all too noticeable. Anne’s eyes eventually travelled to Cathy, taking her in as much as she could without turning her head, and she finally spoke.

“Everyone else is asleep.” She stated, not needing to turn her head to know that every light in the house except for the garden light was off.

Cathy hummed in response and gave a small nod. More long seconds of silence passed before she eventually asked her own question.

“Are you not tired?”

“A little. But I don’t want to go to sleep yet. Are you tired?”

“Not much. I just woke up and realised you were gone, and then looked out the window and saw you sitting here and wanted to make sure you were okay.” A pause. “You are okay. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“What brings you out here then?”

“I had a nightmare. But it wasn’t that bad. I woke up before it got there. And now I’m just thinking.”

Cathy finally turned her head, scanning Anne’s side profile whilst Anne continued to watch the night sky. Practically a master at reading Anne’s body language, she made sure her story was checking out - and it did. She seemed calm enough. Wistful, even. Cathy decided that she didn’t need to intervene, a small flicker of pride licking at her heart, because that meant Anne was getting better at handling her nightmares.

More silence passed by, Cathy being careful not to speak so as not to interrupt Anne’s thoughts. But, as cold air continued to knife at her front, even through the thick hoodie, she spoke again.

“I’m getting a little cold. Can we hug?”

Her tone was shy, and she ducked her head a little bit. Anne grinned to herself.

“What sort of question is that? You know the answer is yes every single time.”

Immediately, she opened up her arms, and Cathy fell right into them.Huddling for warmth, Anne ran her pinkie finger through Cathy’s hair, occasionally twirling around a curl.

“It’s okay if you want to go inside, by the way.” She said. “I’ll be fine. I just want to stay out here a little bit longer.”

Cathy, who had wrapped her own arms around Anne’s waist and shuffled her way into her lap, shook her head.

“No. It’s okay. I was just cold.”

“Alright.”

With Cathy now sitting in her lap, breathing gently against her neck and shielding her against the cold, Anne felt even more at peace than before. Sitting down with Cathy, the silence replaced by her small breaths, it felt like they were the only two people in the world right now.

“I love it at night.” Anne mused, crooking her head a little to gaze up at the stars.

They looked like pieces of crushed up diamond, scattered and thrown into the sky, and they made her eyes twinkle like polished emeralds. There was a certain unique solace in watching them; one that couldn’t be replicated elsewhere. Knowing that they were the same stars from centuries ago, that they had been there for her first life and were now watching over her in the second, was a fact that Anne found surprisingly comforting rather than morbid.

“When everyone else is asleep, it’s like we’re the only two people who matter anymore.” Anne finished.

“I love the stars, but the dark scares me.” Cathy said, and Anne held her a little closer at that confession. “I do know what you mean though.”

Whilst Anne kept her eyes on the webs of constellations above, Cathy kept her eyes on Anne. She looked focused, nude pink lips slightly parted as she observed the sky with wonder. Cathy thought she was beautiful. She also, by whatever means, seemed to get onto the same brainwave as Anne.

“Do you miss your old life?” Cathy suddenly asked, and Anne looked over with a quizzical look. “Obviously not, um, not the part you got beheaded. But the rest.”

She feared that she had suddenly hit a chord, especially considering Anne was down here because of nightmares, but Anne’s response was almost instantaneous.

“Sometimes.”

In her mind, Anne envisioned how life used to be. Visions of places she would never see the same way again appeared in mind. The expansive rose gardens and elegant statues of her childhood home seemed to materialise before her, as did the tiled marble floors and golden chandeliers of the French court. Of course, life back then certainly wasn’t ideal, and she would choose her current life over her old one every single time, but there was still a rosy sense of nostalgia whenever she looked back.

“At least, all the shit before Henry.” She continued. “France.”

Life felt so much easier back then. When she was just Anne Boleyn; lady in waiting, and not Anne Boleyn; the queen, nor Anne Boleyn; the witch or the slut or the whore. She had taken it for granted.

“I kinda want to go there. It’s cheap, I’m pretty sure, so it’ll be easy. But I dunno. I’m scared to see how much it’s changed.”

“Let’s go together.” Cathy suggested. “I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

Suddenly turning her head, Anne looked at Cathy with adoring eyes, excited by the idea. Going to France was something she had been debating at the back of her mind for a while now, but she had never been able to bring herself to book a ferry or a flight no matter how long she had spent on travel websites trying to convince herself. There was just something too daunting about it; the country held some of her dearest memories, and she wasn't sure how she would react to going back there and seeing it all gone or turned into tourist attractions. But now, knowing Cathy would be there with her, she felt a lot more comfortable about the idea.

“I’d like that.” She smiled.

“Then we’ll definitely book flights.”

Again, they fell into yet another silence. Anne’s head turned back to the stars, and Cathy set pondering about what they were talking about before speaking up again.

“I don’t know if I miss it.” She hesitated before continuing. “I don’t think I do.”

Anne nodded at Cathy’s confession, slightly pulling her closer as she silently noted the hesitance. 

“I think the more I think about it, the more I realise I don’t miss that time. I just miss the people.” Anne said, and ghosts of the past appeared behind her eyelids like phantoms. “My mistress from France. Her name was Margaret, and she used to call me  _ la petite Boleyn,  _ because I was younger out of me and my sister.”

A smile played Anne’s lips at the memory before her tone grew a little more solemn and sorrowful.

“Mary. George.” A long pause. “Lizzie.”

Tears suddenly pooled her eyes at the last name, but they didn’t spill.

Detecting the change in tone, Cathy carefully lifted herself away from cuddling into Anne’s side to look up at her properly. Her eyes were glassy, and Cathy felt her heart ache for Anne. Slowly, she brought her hand up to cup Anne’s cheek, tilting her head slightly away from the stars to look into her eyes.

If there was one thing Cathy understood, it was the pain of losing a child.

“I wish I could make your pain go away.” She whispered.

Maybe Cathy did miss one thing after all.

“It’s fine.”

Anne just smiled at her, lifting up her hand and taking Cathy’s away from her face, resting it back onto the bench but not letting it go when she was done. She continued to muse out loud.

“Sometimes I just stay up and think about whatever brought us here.”

She looked across at Cathy sympathetically, squeezing her hand a little. Before all of this, before they got close, before they were even willing to give each other a chance in this new life, there was a preexisting bridge between them. It wasn’t one they talked about much, but it was there all the same - and it wasn’t going away; the loss of their children.

That was probably why Anne felt so comfortable to talk about it to Cathy. Not because they were dating, not because Cathy had proved herself trustworthy (although she definitely had, don’t get Anne wrong), but simply because she understood.

“It feels great a lot of the time. Like, I got to know all of you as people more than the old life ever would have allowed me to. And I met you of course.” Anne cracked a small smile before continuing. “But, other times… I dunno. Nights like these I sit awake and think about everyone who’s been left behind. The people who weren’t as lucky as us, didn’t get a second chance. And I wonder if maybe they’re the lucky ones because they don’t have to deal with episodes like these, where I just sit here and wish I could have done things differently, wonder what life would have been like if I could have stayed with them.”

It was the first time she was talking about this out loud to somebody else, even though the thoughts had been plaguing the back of her mind since the minute she first opened her eyes in this new life. Hell, she rarely talked about Elizabeth out loud at all. For some reason, she just preferred to keep her daughter to herself, especially in comparison to some of the other queens.

But Anne also couldn’t deny the hours of pondering she had spent, and would continue to spend for most likely the rest of her days. Constantly, she would ask herself  _ what if?  _ and then spiral into the possible outcomes for her questions. Maybe, if she had been a little more calculated and careful, less reckless and explosive, things might have ended up differently. But, then again, hadn’t she been killed for her cunning? Every solution raised more questions, and it was always too difficult for her to comprehend.

All she knew was that, if things hadn’t gone the way they did, this life would be a lot better than what it was. Her nightmares wouldn’t be filled with crowds and swords. Just the sight of blood alone wouldn’t be enough to send her into a panicked spiral. There wouldn’t be days where she could barely turn her head because her neck hurt so badly, and she wouldn’t feel apprehensive every time she so much as picked up a knife to cut food.

And her sister, maybe they could have fixed their complicated relationship and she could have met her nieces and nephews. Her brother, maybe he would have lived to an old age and died naturally in bed, surrounded by the children he never got to have instead of the brutal way he actually did, all because of her. And then there was Lizzie. The little girl who her life revolved around, who she spent hours doting on and playing with and reading stories to all until the very end. Anne never got to see her daughter grow up. Maybe, if she had been careful, she could have left the Tudor court and dragged her daughter along with her. Perhaps she would have been banished just like the queen before her, but at least she would have been able to see Lizzie grow up into one of the greatest monarchs the country had seen.

Except none of that had happened, and no matter how much she thought about it, Anne couldn’t rewrite history. They were all fever dreams, every single one, and she could only dwell on the thoughts before being forced to face the harsh reality that it was just that; her imagination. Anne was lucky enough to be given a second shot at life, to be a member of a tightly knit family and to be the girlfriend of the love of both of her lives, but she was never going to be able to erase that part of her. No, the part of her that had abandoned her daughter, had dragged her brother to the scaffold alongside her and had disgraced the family name was going to remain forever.

Sometimes that coexistence was just too difficult to deal with.

“A blessing and a curse.” Cathy thoughtfully said in wake of Anne’s words, and Anne just nodded.

“Yeah. That’s a good way to put it.” Anne responded. “I just always catch myself thinking about it, even when I shouldn’t be. And sometimes I can’t stop myself, like tonight. And I wonder so much. Just… just yearning for a different reality, a changed one, where I could see life out a different way.”

“I understand what you mean.” Cathy said, squeezing Anne’s hand this time. “I used to think about it a lot too. I’d sit up at night and lose sleep because… well, what would have happened if I didn’t die? Or… if I just lived a little bit longer. If I could have held her, just once. That would have been enough.”

Anne’s heart ached as Cathy recounted her own loss, and she realised how lucky she was to have gotten three precious years with Lizzie before it was over. One statement left her lips though, and it was something that she had grown all too uncomfortably accustomed to over the months.

“But you can’t change the past.”

“Exactly.”

Maybe Cathy understood Anne’s struggles more than Anne previously anticipated.

“You know what you can do though?”

“What?”

“Make peace with it.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“I just… I can’t.”

“Anne.” Cathy spoke her name softly, scooting closer to grab her other hand and hold them both tightly. “You said it yourself. You can’t change the past.”

“Yeah.”

“And you also can’t know for certain what could have happened, even if you did just one thing differently. We both know what Henry was like. One thing remotely in his distaste and you weren’t going to see the end of it.”

“I guess. But I should have been more careful.”

“More careful?” Cathy asked. “Anne, what did you do wrong?”

A long silence.

“You did nothing. What happened back then was not your fault, and it never will be your fault. You were just unlucky. Unluckier than most. Henry was a horrible person, and in the end all of our fates were just sealed by how he saw the world. None of what happened to us is any of our fault, and that applies to you too.”

The water in Anne’s eyes finally spilled over after keeping it in so long, but she didn’t sob. Gentle rivers of tears flowed down her face, creating shiny wet trails on her cheeks under the moonlight. They didn’t seem to be sad tears though, so Cathy didn’t wipe them away. Instead, her eyes looked like they were filled with something new; resolution.

“How do you deal with the rest?” Anne finally asked, voice quivering slightly.

“Hm?” Cathy gently hummed, tilting her head to the side a little.

“Like… how do you deal with the nights where their ghosts won’t go away? When, every time you close your eyes, you can see them all standing there.”

“It’s hard.” Cathy admitted with honesty. “But I try. I distract myself. I write until I can’t see her anymore.”

“But you write every night.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” Cathy quickly reassured. “It’s not like I don’t enjoy writing, anyway. You could distract yourself too. Find a hobby.”

“Drawing.” Anne immediately answered.

“I could see you doing that.” Cathy smiled at the thought. “You could visit her too, you know. The burial site.”

“I’ve thought about it. But I don’t know. I’m too scared. I don’t know how I’ll react, what I’ll do when I see it. It feels like a bad idea.”

“I’ll come with you.” Cathy offered. “We can go alone. Maybe we can bring flowers. And you can speak to her, if you want to. I can wait in the car if you want privacy. Or stay by your side. Whatever you need.”

“Really?” Anne asked, her tone smothered in disbelief.

“Really.” Cathy nodded. “I would do anything to see Mae if her grave was marked. You deserve to go and see Lizzie.”

“Thank you.”

That was all Anne could breathe out before a new round of tears emerged. She threw herself at Cathy, silently sobbing into her shoulder. Cathy was quick to react, repeatedly whispering that it was okay, Anne didn’t need to thank her, all while she rubbed her back and held her close, listening to the gentle cries.

Once again, for the longest while, they just sat there on the garden bench, surrounded by the peace of the nighttime. The garden light illuminated the scene around them, and the moon watched over them in peace. Crickets chirping and owls hooting continued throughout, joined by the quiet sounds of Anne’s tears as she slowly pulled herself together.

Eventually, she pulled herself up and away from Cathy, wiping her eyes with her wrist and offering her the tiniest but most grateful smile. Cathy returned it back with warmth and earnest.

“I hope you’re feeling a little better now.” She quietly said.

“A lot.” Anne corrected, and Cathy just smiled wider.

They both looked around the darkened foliage and across the painting of stars in the sky one more time before Cathy spoke again.

“Can we go inside now? It’s freezing.”

“I was just about to say the same.”

And so they stood up from the bench and walked hand in hand back inside the house, Cathy flickering off the garden light and quietly closing the door behind them. Silently so as to not wake anyone else up, they climbed back up the stairs and slipped into Anne’s bedroom, pulling the blankets back over themselves and nestling into each other’s hold.

“Goodnight.” Cathy whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you more. Goodnight.”

Anne slept soundly for the rest of the night.


End file.
